


Another Cinderella Story

by QueenoftheAndhalsandtheSecondMen



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Cinderella - Freeform, F/M, Reader Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7672594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheAndhalsandtheSecondMen/pseuds/QueenoftheAndhalsandtheSecondMen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine going to the ball with Merlin, just like Cinderella!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Cinderella Story

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted to my tumblr (reader-fics.tumblr.com) and you can leave a request there or here for future fics!

"Oh, come on Merlin! Balls are supposed to be fun!" You insisted, shifting the laundry basket you were carrying to your other hip. It was heavier than usual, the weight coming from the clothes of Camelot's guests for the weekend. You, unfortunately, had been lent out to the service of the Lord Richard and his Lady Catharine for the time being. 

Most of the time, you worked as a scullery maid in the castle, but, for this hectic weekend, you served the guests, a noble lord and lady from a neighboring kingdom. Though your workload was practically doubled, you didn't mind. Your reward would come soon enough: just this evening, to be precise. 

In the guests' honor, King Uther had announced a grand ball--to be attended by every single citizen of Camelot, servants included. You had done all you could to earn a little extra money to afford a new dress, and you were nearly there. Servant's garb would hardly do for such a fine event. 

Though you were incredibly excited for the glamour of the ball, Merlin didn't seem to share your enthusiasm. 

"Yes, Y/N, I know they're supposed to be fun, but," he sighed, "they're so much work." 

You rolled your eyes and lightly bumped into him. "So what? A ball! And we're invited." You stated matter-of-factly. "So at least we get to enjoy the fruits of our own labor for once." 

Merlin couldn't help but agree. He watched your bright smile as you ducked into the guest's chambers to deliver their laundry. You were always so cheerful, but he could tell that they were working you too hard. According to the other servants, you hadn't been getting to bed until late and you had been getting up earlier than the rest as well. 

He was worried for your wellbeing. Sure, Arthur wasn't the best and brightest example of treating servants well, but at least Merlin knew how fond the prince was of him. He wouldn't do anything to purposefully hurt him. The guests, however, didn't know you and probably didn't care. He clasped his hands together and hurried past the doorway you'd disappeared into, racing off to find Arthur. 

You tucked the clean, folded laundry into the cupboards and set about doing your chores. Gwen, a close friend of yours, would be bringing breakfast up soon; you had made sure of it. You drew the curtains and swept the floors, all without making a sound. The Lord Richard and Lady Catharine still slept soundly, the curtains of their four-poster bed closed tightly. 

Poking around at the embers of the fire, you added more wood and gently blew on it to build up the flames. You heard movement behind you and you stood up, wiping your hands on your apron. Lord Richard had gotten out of bed and wrapped his dressing gown around himself. You smiled pleasantly. 

"Good morning, milord." You said cheerfully, moving to pull out his chair from the head of the table. Gwen hadn't yet brought breakfast, and you frowned, wondering what could have kept her. Lord Richard did not take his seat and instead examined you closely. 

"Is there any breakfast, girl?" He asked coldly, staring down at the empty table. He shifted his glare to you and you blanched. His temper was infamous. 

"N-no, milord, I mean, not yet. The girl bringing it isn't here ye--"

"Stop your babbling!" He exclaimed, cutting your words short with a slap to your face. "I don't care who was supposed to fetch it. I want it here now! Do you understand?" 

The force of the blow had unsteadied you and you clenched your jaw to keep from crying out. A hand raised to your cheek, the tender area already heating up, you rushed out of the room. You blinked tears away as you raced down to the kitchens. Along the way, you ran into Gwen brining the meal up, who regarded you with wide eyes. 

"Y/N, are you alright?" Gwen asked, examining the fresh red mark on the left side of your face. "What happened! Who did this to you?" 

"Oh, hush now." You chided her, taking the platter from her. "I'm fine." You insisted, turning back on your heel and going right back to the cruel Lord and his Lady. You burst quickly through the door, keeping your head down and your eyes lowered. 

"Breakfast, milord, I am sorry for the delay." You set the tray down in front of the seated man, whose wife had joined him. They both regarded you with disgust, as if you were some dead mouse a cat had dropped at their feet. 

"You'd better be." The Lord Richard said gruffly, stuffing his face and downing it with ale. You clasped your hands together and looked at your feet. Your cheek burned where you'd been struck, and the humiliation hurt more than the slap itself. 

"Girl," Lady Catharine spoke up, "my gown needs mending and my socks need darning. Hurry up now, the ball is tonight." She ordered, gesturing to the pile of clothing dumped recently at the foot of the bed. There was certainly more than just a dress and some socks in that pile. 

"Yes, milady. Right away." You gathered up the clothing and took a seat in the small chair by the window. Biting your lip, you began to sew neat, tiny stitches, fixing up the lady's clothes efficiently and quietly. It would take you a while, you realized with a sigh. Your stomach grumbled and you realized that you yourself hadn't yet eaten breakfast. It was going to be a long day. 

\---

Across the castle, Gwen rapped twice on the doors to King Arthur's chambers. Merlin answered them and he frowned to see her standing there. 

"Gwen? What is it?" He asked gently, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure that Arthur wasn't eavesdropping. 

"It's Y/N." She explained, and Merlin's eyes went wide. He was always worried about Y/N, and, underneath it all, he felt it his job to protect her. He was so fond of the sprightly young girl. She was his best friend in the world. 

"What's happened?" He asked in a hushed tone, searching Gwen's doe eyes for answers.

"I think someone's hit her. Poor thing was close to tears when I saw her. She had a mark across her face, right... Here." She gestured to her own face, laying a hand from chin to cheekbone and splaying out her fingers. "It's going to leave nasty bruises; I'm sure. She wouldn't say who did it but I bet it was the Lord. Famous for his temper, he is."

Merlin felt his blood boil. The thought of someone hurting Y/N--his Y/N--made him unspeakably angry. He felt as if he'd failed, failed one of the three people most important to him: Arthur, Gaius, and Y/N. He swallowed hard.

"Thank you for telling me, Gwen." He said before closing the door. She nodded sadly and hurried away to tend to her other duties in the castle. Merlin turned back inside and struggled to keep himself calm and under control. 

"Merlin? Who was that?" Arthur asked, pushing his chair back from the breakfast table. 

"Nobody." Merlin answered quickly. Arthur gave him a suspicious look, but the brunet merely shrugged it off, clearing the plates from the table. Arthur promptly told him to knock it off. 

"There's no time for that. We've got a big day. My father says I have to write a speech for the ball tonight." He announced, drawing a quill from the container on his desk and thoughtfully twirling it around.  
Merlin groaned inwardly. It was going to be an awfully long day. 

\---

After you finished mending the odds and ends the Lady Catharine, you folded it up neatly. Your fingers ached from such fine-motor labor and you were glad to be done with the tedious task. Lord Richard and Lady Catharine had long since gone to lunch with King Uther. Gwen had come back in, throwing you a sympathetic look. She had prepared them for the day (her way of offering you help, you supposed).

Rubbing your cheek and feeling the tenderness of at least a small bruise, you headed down to the kitchens, yearning to the breakfast you'd missed those long hours ago. You snatched a small meal from under the nose of the cook and returned to the guest chambers to continue tidying up. 

No one stopped you to ask about your face, though their questioning stares did do enough. You kept your head down and hurried through the hallways, avoiding most everyone. Still, not even the most grim of situations could put a damper on your mood about the upcoming ball. 

Back in their chambers, you made the beds and rebuilt the fires before you deemed your work sufficient. After catching sight of yourself in the mirror, you cringed at the unsightly bruising on one side of your face. You decided to go to Gaius for at least a poultice or something to reduce the swelling. 

You knocked once upon the physician's door before pushing it open. Being Merlin's best friend, this was practically your home as well. Gaius was in the middle of brewing a potion, a gelatinous goop simmering ominously over a small flame. 

"Hello, Gaius." You greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. He was practically your surrogate father. After your mother's death, she had left you in his care. He had taken you under his wing, but, more recently, he had allowed you to leap from the nest and fly on your own. You lived on your own salary and had moved out, though you were never far, having taken residence inside the citadel. 

"Oh, hello, Y/N." He scarcely looked at you twice, completely focused on the task at hand. You didn't mind. The less he saw, the less he worried. The absolute last thing you wanted was for Gaius to be worried about you. You didn't need to waste his time. 

"Hey, Gaius, where's that poultice you have to treat bruising?" You asked, coming up with a quick lie, " my Lady needs it to treat a few bruises from a little riding accident on her arms. Her ball gown has short sleeves." Gaius didn't see you cringe at the transparency of your lie. 

"Third bottle from the left, second row down, beige label." He rattled off instantly, every single potion filed away in his head for easy access. You grabbed it quickly and rushed out the door. 

"Thank you, Gaius!" 

\---

When Arthur had gone to join the guests at lunch, Merlin set off to find Y/N. She wasn't in the guest chambers, and nor was she in the kitchens. As a last resort, he went to Gaius's, not even bothering to knock as he burst through the door. 

"Hullo Gaius. Have you seen Y/N?" He asked, quite disheartened. His worry for Y/N had left him very distracted all day. Luckily, Arthur hadn't noticed otherwise he'd have been subject to awkward questions.

"She was in here an hour ago. Grabbed the bruise treatment for Lady Catharine and left. Apparently she was injured in a horse riding accident and needs bruises removed from her arms for the ball." He shook his head, musing on the oddities of women. 

Merlin, however, shook his head. "Lady Catharine hates horse riding." He pointed out. She was famous for always riding in a carriage and never, ever, braving the saddle. Gaius arched an eyebrow, realizing now what he had been too distracted to before. 

"Why would Y/N lie?" He asked. Merlin's heart sunk. 

"I think I know."

\---

You hid the poultice in your fist and returned to the servant's quarters. Luckily enough, you had your own room; though it was tiny and cramped, it was your own. After closing the door, you climbed over your bed and closed the threadbare curtain over the window. The flimsy fabric did nothing to stop light but could guard well enough against prying eyes. 

You opened the bottle and the pungent odor wafted from the murky contents inside. Grimacing, you scooped a little onto your fingers and spread it onto your face where you thought the bruising was the worse. Doing it all without a mirror was the tricky part. Once the paste had all been applied, you sat to wait. 

You had seen Gaius use this particular treatment dozens of times. You put the paste on, which draws the color from a wound, and wipe it off after an hour. Afterwards, the swelling and bruising would usually be unnoticeable, thank the gods. 

The Lord and Lady would be occupied by Uther well into the night, so you had a bit of time on your hands. Sure, there were other chores that needed doing but for just one day you could let it slide. Before the hour was finished, however, you heard a knock on your door. 

"Who is it?" You called, jumping up and racing to scrub the poultice from your cheek. It had only been about three-quarters of an hour, but you hoped anyway that that would be long enough for your face to look decent. 

"It's me. Can I come in?" Merlin's voice rang through the thin wood of the door. You sighed and hid the half-empty bottle under your pillow. Rolling your eyes, you tugged the door open and threw him a look that said 'if you must'.

The young man strode into your room and placed his hands on his hips apprehensively. Brow furrowed, Merlin looked you over from head to toe, usually clear blue eyes clouded with--what? Concern? Empathy? You blushed under his intense gaze and turned away under the pretense of straightening the sheets of your bed. 

"What is it, Merlin?" You sighed, regretfully knowing exactly what 'it' was. Feigning ignorance was probably the only thing you could do. 

Merlin placed his hands on your shoulders and turned you around to meet his gaze. His finger moving to gently lift your chin, his eyes scanned your face, focusing on the bruise mottling your cheekbone. You'd missed a large area with the poultice accidentally. 

"Merlin, I--" You began to speak, wanting, needing to assure him that you were perfectly alright. You couldn't stand the worry in his eyes and wanted nothing more than to fix it and see him smile. "I'm fine. I swear." You were almost begging. 

Ever so slightly, he shook his head, moving to trace the bruise lightly with the pad of his finger. You saw his eyes flash gold for a moment and felt a warm tingling sensation in your cheek. Eyes widening, you searched his face for answers. Merlin's eyes returned to their deep blue and he tenderly cupped your cheek in his hand. You brought your hand up and rested it over his. 

"Magic." You said, neither a question nor an accusation. Merely an observation. He pulled his hand away and you felt yourself missing the warmth and comfort it brought. Merlin nodded sheepishly and dropped your gaze, a blush painting his sculpted cheekbones. This news didn't come as a surprise. You'd known Merlin was a sorcerer ever since he first came to Camelot--Gaius always trusted you with every secret he had. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He said in a low voice, raising his eyes to meet yours. You smirked slightly. 

"Gaius did. Honestly, I'm surprised the whole kingdom doesn't know. You aren't the most secretive person about it, you know." You admitted, wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a tight hug. His arms cradled your shoulders and he rested his chin on top of your head, mumbling some sort of excuses into your hair. 

"Merlin?" Your voice was muffled. He blushed deeper, feeling the vibrations from your voice in his chest. He 'hmm?'ed and you couldn't help but smile. "Thank you." 

He sighed heavily and you felt the gentle rise and fall of his strong, yet lanky, chest. "You're welcome, Y/N. Just promise me you'll stay out of trouble, please?"

You looked up at him through your lashes and smirked. Merlin's heartbeat quickened as he looked down at your face, shining and lovely now that that awful bruise had been healed. 

"When have I ever stayed out of trouble? Come on, you've said it yourself: I'm worse than Arthur."

Detangling yourself from his arms, you put your hands on your hips and stubbornly gazed back at your best friend. Merlin, trying to hide the slight disappointment he felt when you left his side, shrugged nonchalantly. 

"I suppose that bit's true. But, in all seriousness, Y/N, I worry about you." He admitted, raw emotion in his voice. "If anything happened..." Merlin's voice trailed off. You snuck back in for one quick hug and a promise of 'nothing will ever happen'.

\---

"Stupid nobility." Merlin muttered to himself. Arthur had sent him down to the armory to polish and shine his armor. The upcoming ball had sent the entire citadel into a frenzy. The cooks struggled to prepared enough food in time to please the king; Merlin had been turned away from the kitchens without lunch. 

"That better not be an insult to your prince." Arthur's voice rang out among the rows of weapons, laid out almost as precisely as soldiers in real battle. Merlin groaned lightly and rolled his eyes when Arthur came into view. 

"Oh, come on," Merlin admitted, "you're just as stressed about this ball as I am." He tightened his fist around the cloth in his hand, scrubbing furiously at the same spot over and over again. Arthur took a seat next to him and raised an eyebrow. 

"I suppose, but at least you don't have to give a grand speech and dance with every single eligible maiden present." Arthur added with a twinge of disgust. He sighed heavily and tilted his head to look Merlin over. 

"Besides, I know it's not just the ball you're stressed about. How's Y/N doing? Have you yet expressed your true feelings?" Arthur asked with more compassion than Merlin thought him capable of. Merlin looked up abruptly and opened his mouth to protest. 

"Arthur, I don't kn--"

"Oh, shut up, Merlin. I know the way you look at her, with that longing in your eyes." Arthur chuckled, "besides, Gwen told me everything. I think you ought to court her. She's a beautiful girl, you know."

"Arthur, I--" Merlin's jaw gaped. 

"Merlin!" Arthur snapped, altogether quite done with his manservant hiding his feelings. "You don't have to lie to me." He said, in all seriousness. 

Merlin sighed, rubbing his eyes with closed fists. Arthur watched him with a bit of bland curiosity. Was he really that thick to see that Y/N absolutely did return his affections? Even as a prince, he heard the way the servants whispered about them. They were thought to be in love (according to anyone but themselves). 

"I'm just so worried about her. She didn't grow up in Camelot; she came from a small village like me, knowing nothing about court etiquette or anything else. She gets herself into more trouble than anyone I know--except maybe you. The thought of anything happening to her just makes me feel... All awful and twisted inside. Like a lance has pierced me through and someone keeps rotating it. I just don't want anything bad to happen to her." Merlin sighed and put his head in his hands. "Please don't tell her I told you this." He added as an afterthought. Arthur chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder like he would with one of his Knights. Merlin was slightly jolted by the force of it, but he remained quiet. 

"Of course I won't tell her!" Arthur exclaimed. "But you will. And I'm certain she feels the same way about you. Not that I would know..." Arthur cleared his throat and abruptly left the room, leaving Merlin to his thoughts. 

\---

With a light heart (but heavy limbs), you trudged back to the guest chambers, quite nervous at what you might find. What would they make a fuss about this time? All you hoped was that it wouldn't cost you your job. After all, you needed to eat somehow. 

You ran through a mental checklist before pushing the door open. Clothes mended? Check. Fresh linens? Check. Floor swept? Check. Boots polished? Oh no. Lord Richard was not going to be happy. Not at all. You grit your teeth together. It's too late now. 

Briskly stepping through the doorway, you kept your head down and avoided looking the Lord and Lady in the eye. From what you could glean from a limited peripheral vision, Lady Catharine was in the armchair by the fire and Lord Richard was seated at the table, a quill in his hand. They were both intently focused on something in front of them and for that you were thankful. 

Without disturbing their quiet, you snatched up the Lord's boots and pulled a rag from your belt and did you best to polish them with the limited supplies you had on hand. It worked well enough, you thought, admiring the dull sheen of the freshly shined leather. Placing them down carefully, you crossed in front of the Lady Catharine's chair and politely offered her a curtesy. 

"Is there anything else I can do for you before tonight's ball?" You asked quietly, hoping very much that you'd be able to leave work early to prepare for the ball. For only a moment, you let your mind wander with excitement. You couldn't wait to put on a fancy--as fancy as you could afford--dress and waltz around without a care in the world. 

Apparently, the Lady Catharine had a different idea. She looked up from her needlepoint and frowned at you. Distaste was evident across her sharp, pointed features and you couldn't help but squirm under her glare. She clenched her jaw and set her embroidery hoop down on the table near her. 

"I believe that there is still much to be done for the ball." She said stiffly. "I will need assistance getting dressed and having my hair pinned before I can even think about attending the ball. Afterwards..." Lady Catharine let her voice trail off, suggesting either reprieve or, well, something worse. 

You nodded quickly, not allowing her to see your disappointment. Hurrying off to prepare her gown and dressing certain, you waited quietly for her to make her way from the fireplace to where the screen waited for her. You were expected to assist in lacing up her bodice and making sure that she looked appropriately before leaving the room. 

After what felt like days, but couldn't have been more than an hour, she was finally satisfied with her dress. You sighed in relief, your fingers feeling very sore from all the lacing up you were doing.

Another century later and you'd finished her elaborate hairstyle: a looming tower of pins and curls. She'd been so dissatisfied with your work that thrice during your attempts she placed a firm pinch to your backside in order to speed you up. You bit your lip and said nothing. For sure there'd be a bruise there later. 

You glanced out the window and were disheartened to find that the sun had already gone down. So much for finding a new dress to wear to the ball. All the shops would be closed by now. Still, you tried not to be discouraged. It didn't matter what you wore, so long as you were there, right? 

The Lord and Lady, both dressed extravagantly, made their way to the doorway to attend the ball. For the first time, you felt a prick of envy because of them--not because of their wealth, land, titles: just because of their opportunities. You curtsied again and dared to repeat the question you'd asked what felt like ages earlier. 

"Is there anything else I can do for you before tonight's ball?" Your voice rang out in the evening air. The Lord looked at his Lady and then back to you. Lady Catharine spoke up, looking down her nose at you as if you were a cockroach, daring to invade some private space where you weren't welcome. 

"I believe that these floors are in need of a thorough scrubbing." She said, wrinkling her face until it resembled that of a woman twenty years her senior. The Lord opened the door for her and she stepped into the hall. 

"And," she turned back to glare at you one last time, "don't even think about trying to shirk your duties in order to attend the ball." The door closed and you heard the very distinct /snick/ of a key turning in a lock and, with a heavy heart, you realized what she'd done. 

You were locked inside. 

\---

As guests of the ball, Lord Richard and Lady Catharine were expected to arrive fashionably late. Just about everyone else had already gathered, eager to celebrate. 

Arthur, seated in a chair to the right of his father's throne, kept a careful eye on every lady entering the ballroom. He didn't see Y/N, but he still kept looking. He wanted to get her and Merlin alone together. A ball was the perfect sort of situation for young lovers. 

Merlin, like many of the other servants, was given the night off and told to enjoy the festivities. Regardless, he was surprised when Arthur told him that he was relieved of his duties for the evening. It was completely unlike him. Still, Merlin didn't want to question it. Instead, he let himself enjoy the joyful hubbub around him

He, too, kept an eye out for Y/N. Though he wouldn't admit it to himself, he very much wanted to ask her for a dance. He knew how much she loved dancing. Even when she was doing her never-ending list of chores, her body was always swaying to some mental rhythm of music within her. Merlin would sometimes watch her, mesmerized, before realizing that he also had chores to complete. 

When Lord Richard and Lady Catharine arrived, the entire ballroom was thrown into a frenzy, except for Merlin. Even Arthur showed excitement, though it was feigned heavily. Merlin couldn't help but glare daggers at the man who laid a hand on Y/N to hurt her. He despised him with every fiber of his being. Still, their arrival comforted him, telling him that Y/N would be along soon. 

Merlin waited. 

And waited. 

Yet, Y/N did not arrive. 

\---

Frowning, you yanked at the door handle, but the oaken door would not sway. Many emotions swirled within you, but, even so, you weren't quite sure how to react. Biting your lip, you tried the door again without success. 

The idea that someone would be so foul-hearted as to lock a person in their chambers completely shocked you to your core. If you hadn't already held quite a disdain for the Lord and his Lady, you'd have been surprised by their bottom-feeding behavior. In your cocktail of emotions, despair won out and you slumped to the floor. 

This was supposed to be a special night! You were supposed to wear a fancy gown and live the life you had only dreamed of! You had been so excited too! Tears sprung to your eyes and you angrily brushed them away. Rage flew in and unseated the despair, sending you into a fury. 

You jumped up and pounded at the door. How dare they treat you this way! You had just as much of a right to attend the ball as anyone else! You were a human being, damn it, and you were worthy of respect!

No one answered the door and you kicked it in frustration. With a throbbing toe, your short-lived burst of rage dissipated, leaving only self-pity and, worst of all, deadweight guilt. 

Above all, you felt foolish. Foolish for allowing something to mean so much to you. Foolish to get so upset. You were a damn servant, for god's sake! Your feelings didn't matter. They didn't matter at all. You clenched your fists and took deep, shuddering breaths. 

Chiding yourself for loosing control like that, you turned away from the door and glanced out the window. You looked over the courtyard, seeing that there wasn't a single person out and about; everyone was attending the ball. Your heart sank, but you forced yourself to move away and put your tired body to work. 

Picking up a rag and a bucket of water that had been left by another servant (Gwen, most likely) you settled in a corner, tying your hair up and getting to work. 

You let your emotions serve the only purpose that could really help you in a situation such as yours: you used them to fuel your work. Scrubbing at the smooth stones, you furiously dragged the cloth back and forth, back and forth. Your knuckles occasionally scraped the rock and, because of the speed at which you were scrubbing, tore the flesh. 

The pain was nothing, really. Let the blood flow. It didn't matter all that much to you anyway. It's not like your blood was worth anything. Just another mess to clean up at the end of the day. You ignored the stinging in your hands and kept working, unable to notice when your tears fell alongside the water you laid on the floor. 

\---

Merlin remained in the corner of the ballroom, observing the festivities with absolutely no intentions of joining them himself. He wondered where Y/N was, remembering fondly just how excited she was to have the opportunity to attend. She wouldn't have missed this for the world. A gnawing uneasiness wound its way into his gut and instinct told him to go look for her. Rarely was his instinct wrong. 

Slipping out the door, Merlin made a beeline towards the servant's quarters, optimism telling him that she was just taking longer to get ready than most. Pessimism told him that she wasn't there. He knocked on the door but received no answer. Merlin stepped back to double-check that the hallway was clear before using his magic to unlock her door and prove his suspicions: her room was empty.

He grimaced and locked her door, turning swiftly on his heel and towards his own bedchambers, in the physician's office. Perhaps she had gone to visit Gaius before attending the ball. Merlin burst through the door and startled poor Gaius, who was mixing a very finicky potion. 

"Merlin!" He groaned, the opaque liquid sloshing about. "You startled me!" Upon seeing that she wasn't there, Merlin scarcely had time to apologize to the distressed physician before rushing out the door again. 

He raced up the spiral stairways and towards the guest chambers as a last resort. As he would have expected, the doors were locked tight, the Lord and Lady enjoying the ball for themselves downstairs. He didn't expect Y/N to be inside, but he was out of options. Much less careful, he used his magic to open the door again. 

He was heartbroken to find Y/N with red-rimmed eyes on her knees and scrubbing the floor on a night that should have been a celebration. If Merlin hadn't wanted to do away with the Lord and Lady before this moment, he most certainly wanted them gone now. In a few short strides, he was at her side. Grabbing her wrists, he lifted her to her feet and took the rag from her hands. 

"Tonight's not a night for work." He said gently, taking the rag from her chapped and scraped hands. "There's a ball to attend."

\---

It would be an understatement to say that you were surprised to see Merlin. You had expected him to be off by Arthur's side, perhaps even sharing in dances with the lovely maidens of the kingdom. You had expected his mind to be anywhere but thinking of you. Taking the rag back from him, you hid your hands behind your back, hoping he wouldn't notice the scrapes on your skin. 

"Merlin, I can't. Lady Catharine ordered me to stay here until the job was finished." You protested, your stubborn sour mood preventing you from being the least bit pleasant to be around at the moment. Merlin tilted his head and grinned. You watched as his eyes glowed gold. Soon, each and every dust-filled corner of the room was sparkling clean. 

"There. All finished." He said brightly, smiling down at you in a way that conveyed such innocence and joy that you couldn't help but quirk a smile yourself. "Now, come on, Y/N. Let's not miss the dancing." Merlin grabbed your hand and pulled you along behind him as he made for the door. You looked down at yourself in your ragged, stained apron and gown. 

"Wait!" You cried, and he abruptly stopped. 

"What is it?"

"I haven't anything to wear; I can't be seen at the ball in this. I'd stick out like a sore thumb and ruin it for everyone else." You stated glumly. The last thing anyone wanted to see at an occasion such as this was a dirty, tired old servant in the middle of the dance floor. Not only would it be embarrassing, but it would be inconsiderate as well. 

Merlin dropped your hand and raised an eyebrow, looking your clothes over. He, too, agreed that such plain and boring garb wouldn't do, not for a night as grand as tonight. A mischievous smile crossed his face as he briskly rubbed his palms together. 

"We'll just have to fix that, won't we?" He remarked with a gleam in his eye. The gleam brightened into the iridescent gold trademark of his eyes while he used magic. You seemed to feel yourself spinning, almost weightless. The light rotations continued on for almost a full minute. 

When you came back to your senses, you were outfitted with, put most simply, the most gorgeous gown you had ever laid eyes on. Glancing downward, you saw full, shimmering skirts that swirled like mist when you moved and gleamed in the soft candlelight. The bodice, with flowing three-quarter sleeves, was trimmed with ribbon and a few tasteful jewels and gems. 

The dress fit like a dream, as if it were custom-tailored to you--which it was, considering that Merlin's magic made it for you. The fabric, a rich, luxurious satin-y fabric, not only draped elegantly over your figure, but it was in your favorite color as well. You had never worn such fine clothing in your life. 

"Oh, Merlin," you said, wonderstruck, "It's beautiful." You looked up to find him anxiously scanning your face and chewing on his lower lip. 

"You like it?" He questioned hopefully. You took both of his hands in your own and gave them a squeeze. 

"I love it." 

Merlin's eyes lit up at this (this being said, they did not glow gold, but instead became a brighter shade of blue). He took your hand and grandly bowed, ducking his head to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand. You flushed bright pink but could not muster up the will to pull your hand away.

"Would you care to accompany me to this ball, my lady?" Merlin asked, raising his eyes to meet yours. You smiled and curtsied in response, never once dropping his gaze. 

"I would be honored to, my lord." You slightly exaggerated the title of 'lord' just to see Merlin blush and stammer out a protest. 

"Oh, hush," you replied, "you're a lord in my eyes." As soon as you'd finished speaking, a blush overtook you as well. You hadn't meant to admit so much, but it all just slipped out. Merlin was your best friend, true, but that didn't mean that there weren't times when you wished you could be closer, even, dare you say, more intimate. Truly, you loved him, but you feared that he did not reciprocate, and rather than risk the friendship the two of you had built, you content yourself to silently pining over him from a distance. 

Little did you know, Merlin was doing the same thing. 

The twinkle in Merlin's eyes returned as he leaned in close to whisper in your ear. You felt a shiver run straight up your spine, tingling and searing heat into your flesh. You felt his warm breath on the side of your throat, hearing his words but scarcely daring to believe them. 

"If I am a lord in your eyes, then you're a queen in mine." 

In that moment, and the moments following, you knew that things wouldn't remain the way they were beforehand. First of all, after he'd spoken, you had bunched your hands into the fabric of his shirt and pulled him down to capture his lips in a hard, needy kiss. Merlin reciprocated eagerly, cupping your face in one hand and cradling the back of your neck in the other. 

Secondly, between the hurried, frantic kisses, the both of you had gasped out a confession in that abandoned hallway, just a few corridors away from the ballroom. This confession, after being said and returned, seemed to lift the both of your hearts and cause them to soar. 

"I love you."

"I love you, too."


End file.
